(Our store closes at different times each day, so some customers are confused about closing times. Two ladies enter together just before closing time and start browsing the shelves.)

Customer #1: “Hey, why did the lights go out?”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s 7:58, and we close at 8:00. Do you need help finding anything?”

Customer #1: “What do you mean you close at 8:00? I thought you closed at 10:00?”

Me: “Our hours are very confusing, I agree. We close at 10:00 on Fridays and Saturdays, but at 8:00 on Mondays through Wednesdays.”

(My coworker comes with keys to lock the front door, and I switch off our open sign. It is now 8:01.)

Customer #2: “What is she doing? Is she locking us in here?”

Coworker: “No, I’ll let you out when you’re finished, but we have to close the doors since it’s now after 8:00 pm. I’ll wait right here so you can get out.”

Customer #2: “But I thought y’all closed at 10:00?”

Me: “Again, I know it’s confusing. We close at 8:00 tonight. Is there anything I can help you find? We really need to finish closing up for the night.”

Customer #1: “Absolutely not! You’re kicking us out!”

Me: “No, miss, I’m not. You were here before we closed. If you know what you’d like, I’d be happy to ring it up for you.”

Customer #2: “This is so rude. I cannot believe this.”

Customer #1: “We are paying customers like anyone else; how dare you kick us out?!”

Coworker: “She wasn’t kicking you out, but now that it’s 8:10 and you’re still squabbling about it, I’m going to have to kick you out.”

Customer #2: “How dare you?! I’m writing a letter to the manager! No, to the state! You’re both getting fired! This store closes at 10:00!”

(The customers left together, without purchasing anything. Once outside they went to take a photo of our posted hours, at which point they noticed that the sign clearly says we close at 8:00 pm on Monday.)

(I work in a liquor store. The store is laid out in a way that means I have to personally give the customer the item that they request. A “nip” refers to tiny bottles.)

Me: “Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?”

Customer: “I want a nip.”

Me: “Okay, sir. A nip of what, exactly?”

Customer: “A nip.”

Me: “What kind of nip, sir?”

Customer: *points to the shelf*

Me: “So, a nip of vodka?”

Customer: *shakes his head*

Me: *trying to keep calm* “Brandy?”

Customer: *nods*

(The store carries roughly ten different brands of brandy.)

Me: “All right, sir. What kind of brandy?”

Customer: “A nip.”

Me: “Sir, I meant the brand.”

Customer: “A nip!”

(He passed out in the store before I could figure out what kind of brandy he wanted.)

Customer: “Why don’t you carry an eight-pack of these?”

Me: “Oh, sorry, sir. We actually don’t sell the eight-pack versions, just the six- and twelve-packs.”

Customer: “What? That’s ridiculous! You’re really making everything more expensive! Now I have to buy two six-packs! You have terrible customer service, and I’m surprised you’re even still open!”

Manager: “We apologize for the inconvenience. If you like, we can give you $2 off to compensate this issue.”

Customer: “Fine!”

Me: *scanning the items* “Do you need a bag for all this?”

Customer: “No, but I need ice.”

Me: “Sorry, we don’t sell ice here.”

Customer: “Are you f****** kidding me? What kind of s*** store is this?! F*** you guys. You’re making my life harder, and you’re charging me a s*** price for all this! F*** this store. I’m never coming back here again!”

(He slams the money on the table and leaves without his change of… a nickel.)

Me: “Why did you even give him a $2 discount?”

Manager: “I was humouring him. I didn’t think he’d be an a** about everything. I’m still confused as to why he bought two six-packs instead of a twelve-pack.

(When it’s not busy, we’re allowed to find things to do to pass the time. Usually, I do things like making paper stars to fill up our tip jar, to make it seem fancier.)

Customer: “What are those things inside your jar?”

Me: “Those are paper stars. Do you want one?”

Customer: “I’d love to have one!”

(She then takes one from the jar and pops it into her mouth.)

Customer: “Thanks!”

Me: “Wait! Wait a second! That’s paper! That’s not edible!”

(Her eyes widen and she spits it into her hand.)

Customer: “I thought this was a mint!”

(A tough-looking guy approaches my till to buy a case of beer. He’s wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans, with face tattoos, etc. He finishes the transaction, then asks:)

Customer: “Oh, and could I get change for this five-dollar bill? The tooth fairy needs to make a stop tonight.”